


Berserker

by WanderingAlice



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Berserker!Bucky, M/M, No Spoilers, the feels monster struck after seeing civil war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-06-09 23:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6928705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingAlice/pseuds/WanderingAlice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is a Berserker, a warrior who loses control of himself in battle and fights with unmatched fury. Out of battle, everyone fears him. They only see him as a volatile weapon, not a person. He doesn't expect much to change when the king comes with his guard, but he's wrong. Between his incompetent handler, a strong push from their enemies, and an extremely attractive guard captain, his life is about to become very interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've written in a few weeks, so I hope it's alright. I can't promise it will be updated weekly because of my job and the 4-hour round-trip commute, but it will be updated at least once a month until it is finished. I'm playing fast-and-loose with the berserker mythology, so if you see something glaringly wrong please tell me! I'd also love to know what you think of the story! I might not reply to comments because of my anxiety, but I promise I read and love every one. Hearing from you makes my day. Thank you so much for reading!

The camp was buzzing about some new arrivals, not that Bucky cared. Whoever was coming would stay far away from him. They always did. Even the guys with the heavy armor stayed well away from Bucky. Every once in a while they’d bring in a new guy, and sometimes they’d try to impress people by getting close to him, but after the first battle they would invariably disappear.

“The King? For true?” The shout came from the next table over. Bucky looked over to see a bunch of excited knights crowded around a young squire.

“I heard it myself. King Anthony and his knights- they’re coming here to reinforce our camp. Looks like his spider got new info that Hydra’s going to make a push this way.”

Well that was just wonderful. The king and his whole fucking entourage. And no doubt the colonel would want to showcase his biggest asset. So Bucky would be brought out with his handler, and somebody would say the fucking words, and the next thing he would know, he’d be pinned down to the floor with his handler shouting the spells to bring him back. Whatever target they pointed him at would be destroyed completely, and everyone would be staring at Bucky in fear. It had happened before, and would, no doubt, happen again. Suddenly no longer hungry, he pushed his plate away and stood up. The knights at the table behind him flinched, and everyone in sight tensed. Bucky sighed, hunching his shoulders and trying to walk through the mess tent without touching anybody- not an easy feat in such a crowded space. Somehow, he succeeded in escaping the tent without more than brushing past a few soldiers. One of them squeaked as the tail of Bucky’s coat hit his back, but then Bucky was free, out into the crisp night air.

The thin layer of snow crunched underfoot as he walked, leaving behind footprints that were soon filled in by newly falling flakes. A few campfires burned in the distance, but Bucky turned away from them, heading in the other direction to his solitary tent. Not even his handler would risk camping by him, not when there was a chance of the battle fury taking him. Never mind that it took nine words, ( _in_ _fucking Russian for god_ _’s sakes!)_ to activate it. And only two living people knew those words- his handler, Zemo; and the colonel. He didn’t mind being alone so much, but it was the fear that got to him. The way they looked at him like he was a weapon more than a person, one that could go off unexpectedly at any time. It wasn’t like he’d saved their asses more times than he cared to count. Or that without him, Hydra would still be gaining land and pushing them back. Or even that none of this was his choice. No. He was a Berserker. That meant he was something to fear.

His bitter musings were broken by the sounds of an argument coming from somewhere to his right. He turned down the row of soldiers’ tents, cautiously moving towards the sound with a hand on his blade. A woman’s voice with a thick accent shouted protests that were answered by male laughter. Bucky growled, low in his throat. Like as not, these were soldiers who had caught a servant and were tormenting her for no better reason than that they could. He reached the source of the noise and peered around a tent to see five soldiers ringed around a young woman. Her eyes were wide and fearful, flickering from man to man, hands raised as if to stop them from approaching her.

“Look at the little witch!” One of the men said gleefully. “She thinks she can stop us from taking what we want!”

“Oh-ho!” Another cried. “Let’s see about that, shall we?” He took a step forward and red fire flared in the girl’s hands.

“Stop,” she told them, though her voice quavered. “I’m warning you.”

“Did you hear that, boys? She’s warning us,” a third soldier said in a mocking voice. “I guess we should just let her be then.”

The fourth man laughed, a nasty laugh Bucky recognized as belonging to a particularly unpleasant soldier. “I don’t think so,” he said, moving closer to the girl, who spun to face him. Bucky growled again, feeling the anger rise up in him. He might not be able to _berserkergang_ without the trigger words, but the anger was in his blood, a part of him.

“I wouldn’t do that  if I were you,” he said, stepping around the tent and drawing his blade.

“Shit,” one of the men said, “it’s Barnes.”

“He’s harmless,” their leader told them with a sneer. “He hasn’t got his pretty handler to let him off his leash.” The others muttered worriedly.

“I still know how to use my blade,” Bucky said, and demonstrated by disarming the fifth soldier, who had been attempting to sneak up on him from the shadow of a tent to his left. “I don’t need the battle fury to take you all.” The soldier he had disarmed lay on the ground moaning. Bucky had broken his shield arm.

“Uh, lieutenant, maybe we should…” one of the men suggested. When Bucky looked at him, he turned and ran. The others quickly followed suit, not even stopping to pick up their fallen comrade who limped off as quickly as he could. Bucky snorted.

“Assholes.”

“Thank you,” the woman told him, lowering her hands. But Bucky noticed she remained tense, the scarlet around her fingers flickering and providing more light than the torches. “I do not know what I would have done, had you not come.”

Bucky shrugged. “Those guys are asses. I’ve been looking for an excuse to teach them a lesson for months.”

“Still,” the girl insisted, “you did not have to help me, yet you did. They will not, I think, let that go.”

“I couldn’t just let them hurt you,” he told her. “It’s not right.

“Others would have,” she said.

“I’m not others.”

She laughed. “That much is clear. Thank you, Mr… Barnes, was it?”

“Call me Bucky,” he said, offering his hand. She took it and gave it a firm shake.

“Wanda,” she introduced herself. “Wanda Maximoff. I’m an apprentice in the King’s Guard.”

“Kings Guard, huh? I’d heard the King was coming. Didn’t realize he was already here.” Bucky looked her over. The King’s Guard didn’t have a uniform like other units, but they all usually had some sort of personal identifier, a badge or broach with a large A on it- the nickname of the unit was The Avengers. This girl wore hers pinned to the lapel of her scarlet jacket, a white ring around it indicating she was still a trainee.

Wanda nodded, tucking a strand of her long hair behind her ear. “My captain and I came ahead, to prepare for his arrival tomorrow. He is talking with the colonel now.”

That explained it. “They’ll probably put you on the north side of camp. It’s farthest away from the fighting.” He pointed back in the direction he had come. “I think there’s still room over behind Colonel Phillips’ tent.”

“What about over there?” She nodded towards the swath of bare land between the last of the soldier’s tents and Bucky’s own.

“Too close to the fighting,” he told her. “The last battle was within two hundred feet of here, and it might come closer before we drive Hydra off from this area.”

“I see,” she said, and was about to speak more when a voice from behind Bucky cut her off.

“Wanda, there you are.” It was a light male voice, warm and soft all at once. Something in it resonated within Bucky, and he turned.

“Steve,” Wanda greeted him. “Is your meeting with the colonel over so soon?”

The man, Steve, was tall- more than six feet, with a commanding gaze. He wore his Avengers badge on his chest, above his personal logo of a red and white shield. He looked over Bucky with piercing blue eyes, expression betraying nothing of his thoughts.

“For now,” he told Wanda, eyes never leaving Bucky. “He wants us on the northern side of the camp.”

“Bucky was just telling me that the fighting comes too close to the southern side. It would be better to keep the king further away from the front lines,” Wanda informed him.

“Don’t tell Tony that,” Steve said with a wry smile, gaze darting to Wanda and then back to Bucky. “Or he’ll insist we put him as far south as we can.”

Wanda laughed. “And then Natasha and the queen would kill us.”

“True.” The smile faded and the man continued to watch as Bucky shifted, uncomfortable with the way the man’s gaze seemed to see straight to his soul. But for all it’s intensity, he didn’t seem afraid, simply wary of the stranger. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” he said, when the quiet had stretched out too long and Bucky started to fidget with the hilt of one of his daggers.

Bucky let go of the blade and extended his hand. “Sergeant James Barnes, of the 107th. Everyone calls me Bucky.”

“Bucky.” Steve shook his hand, grip firm. His calloused hand was warm in Bucky’s, and he didn’t want to let it go. “I’m Captain Steve Rogers.”

Bucky stiffened, withdrawing his hand to offer a salute. “Sir,” he said, now fully aware that this was the captain of the King’s Guard. And while the rank itself was lower than major or colonel, even the king’s generals listened when Captain Rogers gave advice. The man was famed for his strength and skill in battle, his brilliant tactical mind, and the strange magic that had helped him achieve it. Bucky wasn’t entirely ready to trust rumor alone on the man’s skill, but he could see for himself they hadn’t been lying about his attractiveness.

“At ease soldier,” the captain said, gaze thawing just a little. Bucky dropped his arm to his side.

“He came to my rescue,” Wanda told the captain with a smile for Bucky. “Some soldiers were harassing me, and he stopped them.”

“Oh?” the captain’s eyes hardened again. “Which soldiers? Who were they?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Bucky protected me.”

“I’d still like their names, so I can have a talk with their commanding officer,” the captain told her.

“I know them,” Bucky offered. “I can give you their names.” When the captain nodded, he recited them, sure that whatever was said to their commanding officers about this, there would be hell to pay later. Nothing overt, they wouldn’t want to risk attacking him outright. But there were plenty of small things someone could do to make your life a misery. Ah well. It would be worth it to see those bullies taken down a peg or two.

“Thank you,” the captain said when he was done. “I appreciate you stepping in for Wanda.” His expression was softer now, approving, and there was something almost warm in his eyes. “I’ll be sure to mention it to your commander as well.” He smiled, a genuine, grateful smile that was just for Bucky.

Bucky, to his horror, felt himself blush. “Well, uh, I couldn’t just let them, you know,” he said, unusually tongue tied. “They’re ass- uh, jerks, sir.”

“It’s just Steve,” the captain said, and Bucky’s eyes widened. “And I’m still grateful. It was still a noble thing to do.”

Bucky stammered out some sort of response, he hoped it was coherent enough for the captain to understand, though he wasn’t sure. Inwardly, he cursed himself. He’d never been this awkward around someone before. Usually, he was known for being smooth. Back home, he’d had a reputation as something of a charmer. Of course, that was before he’d joined the army and become a berserker. He wouldn’t know what they thought of him now.

The captain and Wanda excused themselves, heading off to find a place to put the king’s tent. Bucky watched them go, Wanda walking close to the captain, their shoulders brushing. She said something that Bucky couldn’t hear, and it made the captain laugh. It was nice to see the man was mortal, despite all the fearsome rumors. Bucky wandered back to his tent, replaying their interactions in his mind. It had been a long time since someone had looked at him without fear. It had been nice. Of course, even if he did run into them again, they’d eventually learn just who -and what- he was. The friendliness of this night would be gone then. It was as certain as the rising sun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long to get out. Home is... explosive right now, so I've been hiding in my room playing video games to keep out the drama. And work keeps me very busy, although I love my job. I'm going to try to update more regularly from here on, but I cannot promise anything. My office is moving, and I'm taking on more duties at work, so it's anyone's guess when I'll get time to write on top of my (two hour each way) commute. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! I may not reply to comments much, but I do read every single one of them, and they brighten my day immensely. Thank you to those who have already commented, and a pre-emptive thanks to those of you who might do so now. Feedback is better than chocolate!

The retaliation for Bucky’s actions started immediately the next morning. He stepped out of his tent, only to find the ground around it coated in a layer of slippery ice. His feet went out from under him, and he landed on his back in a pile of snow. He caught sight of movement from the tents closest to his, but they were too far away for him to tell if there was anyone there. Grumbling, he dusted himself off and stood. Idiots. They feared to get close to him because of his power, the swift and brutal strength of the Berserker. But at the same time, they pulled pranks designed to harm and frustrate him. Did they not realize what would happen if, by some trick of fate, the safeguards and bindings on him broke and the battle fury took over? Hiding behind tents would not save them, they would be dead before they even saw him coming.

Using his sword as an ice pick, he made short work of the ice before his tent opening, breaking it up and moving it to the side so he wouldn’t have to worry about it later. Then he used the tip of his sword to draw an intricate pattern in the snow up to the canvas of his tent so he would know if anyone entered it while he was gone. When he was done, he stood back and surveyed his work, pleased. It looked like a spell glyph, something complex and powerful. That should keep them out. There were rumors around the camp that he was a magic user, and a good one. They were all bullshit, of course, but it helped if people thought he was laying a curse for someone entering his tent without his say-so. With luck, the bastards would be too cowardly to test it, and if they were their feet would certainly mess up the pattern, leaving evidence of their passing to warn Bucky upon his return.

Reassured that his tent, and his few possessions within were safe, Bucky returned his blade to it’s sheath and headed off in the direction of the practice fields. There was still time to get breakfast before he began his usual training regimen, but the men from last night would no doubt be there and Bucky had no desire to encounter them this early in the day. Instead, he could get in some extra practice time, and perhaps even catch a glimpse of the King arriving.

It wasn’t far from his tent to the practice fields, but by the time he arrived he was wishing he’d thought to wear an extra jacket. The day was cold, and only going to get colder. His breath fogged in the air before him and he aimed a glare at the clear sky, its cloudless expanse mockingly bringing to mind summer and warmth. Winter had come on quickly this year, delivering three inches of snow before the first of November and it only looked to get worse. The weather mages predicted a long winter, with several large storms to come.

Bucky was pulled out of his weather ruminations by a commotion around one of the practice rings. Many soldiers crowded around the fence, climbing on each other in their excitement to see what was going on. Off to one side, a group of knights in armor cheered and hooted encouragement to someone in the ring. Bucky spotted Wanda perched on the fence across from the knights and made his way through the crowd to join her. Where he passed, the crowd fell silent and edged away, only to resume their noise again once he had moved on. A space cleared for him next to Wanda, the soldiers shoving their companions over to the side in their haste to get away from him. Wanda smiled at him in greeting before turning her eyes back to the fight taking place in the center of the practice ring. Bucky followed her gaze and nearly gasped.

In the ring, two men circled each other with deadly grace. One, Bucky recognized immediately. A large man with a semi-permanent scowl, wearing heavy armor, his every move was loud. Sir Gilmore Hodge was his name, one of the colonel’s pet knights. He had a terrible reputation for abusing squires and the younger soldiers, running them ragged with ridiculous demands at all hours that they were obliged to complete simply because he was a noble. Bucky doubted he’d ever heard the word no in his life. Currently, he engaged in the gentleman’s pass-time of shouting vile insults at his opponent.

The other man was only slightly familiar, a silhouette Bucky had seen only once, in the dark the night before. The captain of the King’s Guard wore light leather armor that allowed for far more movement and flexibility than his opponent’s plate. He was light on his feet and as quiet as a cat, uttering no response to the tirade Hodges unleashed. His broad shoulders rippled with muscles, the leather armor fitted perfectly to him like a second skin. Hodge swung at him and his opponent ducked and rolled under the blade, bringing his shield up under the knight’s guard using it to knock Hodge back. The knight stumbled away, barely managing to keep his feet. The other man pressed his advantage, attacking not with a blade but a flurry of kicks and punches. Metal rang as Hodge’s plate took blows, and Bucky saw the indents the opponent’s knuckles made in the thick steel plate.

“Ten dollars says the mean one falls before Steve pauses,” Wanda said, placing a small ten-dollar gold coin on the railing next to her. Bucky grinned and put a second coin down beside it.

“Taken. Hodge’ll get his feet under him, but it won’t matter. Your captain will have him on the floor in three moves. _And_ he’ll cry.”

Wanda snorted, eyes on the fight. “Don’t like him much, do you?”

Bucky shook his head, though she couldn’t see it. “Those men from last night? They’re his team. And I’m willing to bet he’s not doing a damn thing to reprimand them.”

“ _Fucker_ ,” Wanda said with feeling. Bucky laughed. He liked Wanda. It would suck when she learned about his nature and turned away from him in fear.

Hodge got his feet back under him and Captain Rogers paused. The knight swung at him again and the captain raised his shield. Hodge grunted with the impact, but the captain didn’t even flinch.

“One,” Bucky murmured. He’d seen so many battles, reading them had become almost simple. Captain Rogers surged forward against the knight, shield hooking onto the blade’s hilt and tearing it out of Hodge’s hands.

“Two,” Wanda said, leaning forward.

“And three.” Bucky watched Captain Rogers pull his arm back and slam it into Hodge, knocking the man back. Hodge teetered, and with a stunned look on his face he fell, landing with several large clanks from his armor. The crowd held its breath while another knight slowly counted to ten. When Hodge did not rise, the soldiers erupted into cheers. The knights that had supported Hodge surrounded him, one of them pulling him up and supporting him over to the waiting healer. Captain Rogers turned and came back towards Wanda, unbuckling his helmet as he went.

“You did well,” the girl told him, jumping down from her perch and handing him a water-skin.

The captain shrugged. “He was overconfident. Men like that always underestimate their opponents. If you know that, you can use it to your advantage. Did you see how I got under his guard?”

Wanda nodded. “You didn’t insult him back, like he expected you to. It made him uncomfortable, and you used that discomfort to distract him.”

“Good,” Captain Rogers smiled at her, nodding his approval as if she were a student who had passed a test he had given her. Bucky supposed she was.

“What were you fighting about?” he asked the captain, who turned to look at him. “That wasn’t a training duel, that’s for sure.” Training duels didn’t usually use full armor.

“How can you tell?” Wanda asked, curious.

“The armor for one,” Bucky replied. “For a second, they were using live weapons. Training bouts usually use blunted swords, not ones with sharpened edges. It’s too risky if a mistake were to happen, and we need all our men in fighting shape.”

“Oh.” Wanda looked thoughtful. “Have you been in many duels, then?”

Bucky’s laugh was harsh. “No. None, actually. Not for a very long time. They’re all too scared of me to think about it.”

“Why?” the girl wanted to know. Bucky shrugged.

“It’s complicated.” He could have explained, but he wanted to keep the fear from their eyes for as long as he could.

“Who do you train with?” Captain Rogers asked, frowning at him with concern.

“I don’t,” was Bucky’s short reply.

Surprisingly, it was Wanda who replied. “I understand. I, too, am feared by many.” She held out a hand and showed him a ball of the same red fire he had seen the night before. “This,” she said, “it is powerful. It frightens people who cannot control me and what I do with this power.”

“This isn’t the same,” Bucky told her, looking away. He didn’t see his companions share a look of understanding behind his back.

“Train with us today,” Captain Rogers offered, causing Bucky to turn to him in surprise.

“What?” the berserker asked, surprised.

“Train with us,” the captain said again. “It will do Wanda some good to see how someone else fights, and I could use another person to spar against. Unless you don’t think you’re up to it,” he added with a crooked smile.

“Oh I’m up for it!” Bucky protested, then stopped. “It’s just… I- I mean,” his words stumbled to a halt as Captain Rogers raised his hand.

“I’m aware of your, ah, situation,” he said, and Bucky froze. He _knew_?

“Then-” he tried to say, but the captain shook his head.

“Trust me,” Captain Rogers told him. And the strange thing was, Bucky did.

“Are you _sure_?” he pressed, more out of shock than anything. How could the man know, and still make such an offer. Not even Zemo would spar against Bucky, and Zemo was the one with the control spells. “Even though I’m a berserker?” The word tasted like poison on his tongue.

“Positive.” The pity in the captain’s eyes was hard to look at. When Bucky glanced at Wanda, he saw only understanding in her gaze.

“What you are is not _who_ you are,” the girl added. “And I think you must be a good man. No one else would have done what you did last night.”

Bucky bowed his head. Around him, he heard the last of the crowd dispersing, drawing away from the large practice ring. Many of them were commenting on the outcome, energized by the display of Captain Roger’s skills. Those passing by walked in an arc around the small group, leaving ample space between themselves and the berserker. Closer, the captain and Wanda stood patiently, not even a foot away from him. Waiting on his decision.

“How did you know?” he asked them, still not looking away from the dirt beneath his feet. Had Hodges told them, when they confronted him about the actions of his soldiers?

“Bruce Banner,” Captain Rogers said. “He keeps track of all the berserkers he hears about. And Hodge confirmed it was you this morning, just before he challenged me to a duel.”

“Bastard,” Wanda spit out, voice hard. “He believes himself better than us, just because of who his parents are.”

“Wanda,” the captain warned. Bucky glanced up to see her frown at him.

“Don’t ‘Wanda’ me, Steve. You know it’s true.”

The captain sighed. “My point is,” he said, turning back to Bucky, catching and holding his gaze. “Is that we suspected last night who you were, and we know now. It doesn’t matter. And I’m inviting you to train with us today.”

Bucky blinked. Only Captain Rogers could truly say it didn’t matter. He was probably the one person on earth with the strength and skill to take down a berserker in full battle rage. He looked at Wanda. She was nodding. He wondered if either of them had seen a berserker fight before. They would probably be singing a different tune then. But… there was nothing but honesty in their gazes. They weren’t afraid of him. That would probably change after the first battle they fought with him, but for now it was… nice.

“Okay,” he told them, and saw them both smile.

 

The three of them trained together until late afternoon, stopping only for a brief lunch in the dining tent. The usual space around Bucky had been filled by Steve and Wanda, whose only comment on the large amount of room between them and the other diners was that the extra elbow room was nice for a change. Bucky enjoyed himself immensely. It was almost like it had been before his transformation, what little he could remember of it. He’d been part of a squad then, all soldiers like him, and they had trained together. Those men were probably all dead now, and even if they had lived, they would have been just as frightened of Bucky as everyone else. But the captain -Steve, as he insisted Bucky call him, he truly didn’t care one bit. He didn’t pull his punches, every swing of his sword carried his full strength behind it. And Bucky, to his surprise, found that he could match that legendary strength, even without the full power of _berserkergang_ behind him.

The sun was dipping down to brush the tips of the trees when Steve lowered his blade, turning to look towards the main road into the camp. A horn blew, and then another, releasing a volley of sound that announced the arrival of the royal party. Steve sighed, looking back to Bucky regretfully.

“I hate to cut this short,” he said with a sigh, “but that’s our cue. Tony will be wanting to see us.”

“He’s been wondering where you got to,” a new voice said, and Bucky turned, startled, to see a redheaded woman sitting on the fence surrounding their training ring. He hadn’t even sensed her approach.

“Nat!” Steve called, striding over to her. Bucky glanced at Wanda, wide-eyed. The woman could only be Natasha Romanov, was the king’s personal spy-master. The one everyone called the Black Widow, or, more informally, the king’s spider.

Wanda shrugged. “She is very good at sneaking up on people,” was all she said, before she too went over to speak with the woman. Bucky hung back, unsure if he really wanted to get closer to a woman who, legend said, could kill a man with only a glance.

Eventually, Steve came back over to him. “We need to go speak with the King,” he said. “You’re welcome to join us.”

“Me?” Bucky asked, incredulous. “Meet the King?” For a moment he was tempted, before he remembered what he was. He shook his head. “No, I need to be getting back to my tent. If I leave it for much longer, one of Hodge’s men might get brave enough to go inside.” It was a weak excuse and he knew it. Hodge’s soldiers wouldn’t dream of actually going into his tent. Not while they believed there was a change he was a magic user, and had laid a curse on his belongings.

“Okay,” Steve said, though he was plainly not convinced. “Then, we’ll meet you here tomorrow morning? We did good work today, and I could use you to teach Wanda some more advanced combat techniques.”

Bucky shrugged. It was more than likely he’d show up and they would not be there, caught up in something the King had ordered. “Sure, why not?”

“Let’s meet for breakfast,” Wanda suggested, coming to stand beside her captain. “I liked the extra room we had today. Usually it’s much too crowded.”

“Good point,” Steve agreed. “In front of the mess tent, then? At, oh, say, 0700?”

Bucky wrinkled his nose. Morning people. 0700 was barely acceptable to be moving, in his opinion. But he nodded, though he told himself not to hope for anything. He tried hard not to believe they would be there, because if he did, he would only be disappointed when they didn’t show up.

“Come _on_!” the spy-master called from where she leaned on the fence. “Tony has something he wants you to hear.”

“Go,” Bucky told them. “You don’t want to keep the King waiting.”

“0700,” Steve said firmly. “We’ll see you then.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, and was treated to a pleased smile. It was as if the sun itself had shone brightly in his eyes. He watched, stunned, as Steve turned and walked away. Wanda laughed.

“See you tomorrow,” she said, and hurried to join her captain. Bucky watched them go, unable to put the memory of the captain’s bright smile from his mind.


End file.
